i might have asked for a chance
to explain my-
self, but all i could have said was:
bran muffin
(which i rarely eat) or
grasshopper
(explorer of grassy
jungles).
so, i’ll just keep quiet & let
my ambiance speak for itself.
although what you see, ain’t
(epistemologically) what you’ll get.
i am a man, like the
sky is blue, &
my heart is a timpani
(just for you).
maybe the youngest miracle in your universe,
maybe the ken for your barbi...
maybe the shiva for your shakti...
i want to be your husband, your lover,
your extraordinary/ordinary-day/night
dream. the one sacrament
you can count on.
yup,
i’m the fella with the white horse & the
white hat & the ladder you’ve been
waitin’
fur.
touch me,
i’m sensuous clay.
believe in me,
i’m your angel.